


Devil Town

by zeniel



Category: Original Work
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, F/F, Gen, Internalized Homophobia, LGBTQ Female Character, LGBTQ Themes, Non-Graphic Violence, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-20
Updated: 2020-04-25
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:34:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23754697
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zeniel/pseuds/zeniel
Summary: Max predicted that this summer, the one right before her last year of High School, would be the same: try to stay out of juvie, avoid her father at all costs, do drug runs with Omar and run the tattoo parlour with Mateo. Nothing good, nothing new, the plan was the same.On lonely, quiet nights, when she'd be stalking around the neighbourhood at midnight while smoking a joint, she'd wonder what her life was, what she wanted it to be and what if, just maybe, something would change in her life; she'd cash in all the clichés. Light at the end of the tunnel, cheesy saying about hope and love and life, etcetera, etcetera.She knew it wasn't realistic though; people like her, the truly desolate and broken ones, didn't live in clichés. They didn't get happy endings and they didn't fall in love, not in the way the poets spoke about it.She didn't know yet though that this summer was the one where she'd become acquainted with caramel. She would come to know Caramel, everything about her. She would come to love Caramel even if she didn't want to, even if she didn't accept it.-Follow the summer wherein Max Orlov finally discovers that people do love her. Namely one person in particular: Caramel.
Relationships: Original Female Character/Original Female Character
Kudos: 1





	1. prologue

**Summer** was a fickle thing in the South Side. 

Sometimes, it was great. The sun was hot enough for ice cream trucks to sometimes wander into their murkier depths and there was enough free alcohol to keep everyone happy. And besides, no school meant more time for the stupid kids and teenagers to live a little, pretend their lives were actually decent and not falling apart.

However, most times, especially for Max: Summer was an unwelcome reminder of the reality of her life. Her father would be around more, torturing her even more and tearing her apart piece by piece, shifting her into a different kind of person than she felt she was when the entire debacle began. 

When she was younger, her mom, Maeve, would drop by in the summer. Her mom was always the best, frisking her and Mateo out of the house. The woman would smile caringly as she'd bring them to her sister's place, cheering them up with homemade Italian food and playing out in the streets which were so much safer than the ones near where the kids lived. 

They would stay there for about a week at the most before eventually going back to their father. She'd drop them off at the foot of their home, not bothering to come in, dropping a cold kiss on each of their foreheads with no promise of coming back. 

One summer when Max was nine, her mother did come inside their house; not looking at her or her brother once but rather slamming down a bunch of documents down, swearing at her barely coherent husband in rough Italian before saying "I'm done." 

When Max looked back on it when she was older, she realized that her mother had changed from Maeve Orlov to Maeve Rocco.

She never came back in the summer. 

Needless to say, Max's relationship with even the idea of Summer was never the same.

Max predicted that this summer, the one right before her last year of High School, would be the same: try to stay out of juvie, avoid her father at all costs, do drug runs with Omar and run the tattoo parlour with Mateo. Nothing good, nothing new, the plan was the same. 

On lonely, quiet nights, when she'd be stalking around the neighbourhood at midnight while smoking a joint, she'd wonder what her life was, what she wanted it to be and what if, just maybe, something would change in her life; she'd cash in all the clichés. Light at the end of the tunnel, cheesy saying about hope and love and life, etcetera, etcetera. 

She knew it wasn't realistic though; people like her, the truly desolate and broken ones, didn't live in clichés. They didn't get happy endings and they didn't fall in love, not in the way the poets spoke about it.

She didn't know yet though that this summer was the one where she'd become acquainted with caramel. She would come to know Caramel, everything about her. She would come to love Caramel even if she didn't want to, even if she didn't accept it.

She would come to love the way her sickly brown eyes would twinkle whenever she had something up her sleeve, the way they darkened whenever something was wrong. The way she smiled, her teeth pearly white but uneven; something that made her smile even more appealing somehow. The way her dark, lithe legs would bound from place to place, the way she smirked when she realized that Max was staring. The way that she kissed her; somehow rough but still inviting lured her in with warmth that she earlier thought was impossible. 

All of it, all of her, all of Caramel: it took her in. And she was in, she was sure. Max never did a great job of expressing herself through words and learnt how to show her through actions and movements, albeit small ones. But, Caramel needed to hear it, she needed Max to say it, to accept it.

But she didn't. She couldn't, not after years, of trying and hurting and the threat of danger hanging over her head, obscenely. She needed time, she needed to be free of this neighbourhood and her family. 

Caramel couldn't wait though. 

And so, just as soon as she came into Max's life with her playful teasing and her short, braided hair and all of her kindness...

She was gone. 


	2. chapter one

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> an introduction to Max and the elusive Caramel...

  
Everyone had always said that she was the spitting image of her mother. She had everything that her mother used to have, from head to toe. 

When she was a kid, she had it all. From the long, flowing locks of brown, the sharp, focused hazel eyes, from the curved arch of her neck to her somehow naturally cherry and pink lips, everyone used to fawn over how much she looked like Maeve in her formative years, before everything.

Marzia liked it in the beginning. She liked it when she was younger and she looked into the half-broken mirror with her mother and see the stark similarities; she smiled brightly and tugged at her mom's sleeve before cooing and pointing at their reflections.

"Look, Momma! We're the same!" 

Only later when she grew up would she remember her mother's trembling hands as she cupped her daughter's face and forced a smile onto her face. "Yeah. We are," she had whispered before pinching Marzia's cheeks and sending her off to play with her younger brother. 

That was when Marzia was at the impressionable age of six with her five-year-old brother Mateo. It was the year that her mom left, leaving the pair of siblings to practically fend for themselves, their father too angry about their mother's departure to care. 

This betrayal left Marzia furious, letting the anger consume, despising how similar she looked to her mother, rather than loving it as she did before. 

She did her best to change her appearance; she dyed her hair black before chopping it off into what she hoped was a girly pixie. She pierced her ears and got a nose piercing and once she trusted Mateo was sober enough, she let him trace her skin with a multitude of intricate, black tattoos. 

She knows she still looks too much like her mother. Her father reminded her of that more often than not, usually when he was drunk and belligerent and even more violent than usual. 

She makes sure her personality is factions away from what her mother was too: she remembered her mother being kind and dutiful. She always tried to be the perfect mother, the model wife, just before she had enough and she decided she didn't need to be either of them in any capacity.

Marzia made sure everyone forgot that name and made them call her Max instead. It sounded better in her head, less prim and proper. Max is rough and knew how to roll with the punches. She went to juvie for the first time when she was twelve and knew how key a car and how to smoke without burning off the tips of her fingers. 

Max is nothing like Marzia. And she's nothing like Maeve. 

-

Max had very nearly escaped the summer. Six months before, she had been arrested for aggravated assault and breaking her parole. Naturally, she had been thrown back into juvie for another year.

She could have ended up in there for less-the guys didn't even retain any permanent damage but it was the way it always went for kids in Esperanza. They couldn't afford a lawyer and the system hated them, only seeing their rough appearances and rap sheet and not anything else. So, they always got the maximum sentence. 

This had suited Max just fine in this case. She didn't mind being in juvie that badly. She didn't have to go to school, she didn't have to see her father or her half-siblings any time and she got to be the boss for once. And this time frame was perfect. She'd not only be able to avoid home for a year but she got to skip the summer vacations as well- an added plus.

But of course, Max could never be that lucky. As the juvie system became packed and crowded, many delinquents, including herself, were let out of the system in early December, just in time for the summer vacations along with Christmas and New Year's Day. This, unfortunately, left Max in a very tricky situation. 

Summer bound. 

It was the day that she got released that it all started. That she all started. That Caramel started. 

Dressed in the ratty, torn-apart clothes that she got arrested in with the hot, absolutely intolerable Argentine sun panting down her back- she almost managed to walk out of juvie without anybody looking for her if she was lucky. 

Alas, no luck as always as she spotted both Omar and Claudia leaning beside the hood of her brother's ratty black car that she's pretty sure he jacked and stole from one of the city slickers before changing the number plate. 

Omar Gio and Claudia Rocca were probably the only few people who Max trusted and gave a shit about, apart from her brother. Then again, his stupid ass wasn't here either so maybe she shouldn't bother with him either. 

It wasn't like she was close to these two either but still, they kept out watch for another, bailed each other out of jail and picked them up from juvie- all of that had to count for something. 

Claudia was the first one to look up from smoking a cigarette with Omar to smirk and holler loudly, "Look who's here?"

"I thought I might have to find my way home by myself." Max grinned brilliantly, her smile splitting her face in half. 

"Whatever would I have done?" she adds mockingly as Claudia walks up to her before enveloping her in a hug. 

"Missed you," Claudia said somewhat affectionately with a fond look on her face as Omar walked up to the pair, smirking at the exchange. 

Max, as always, brushed her off. "Sure, you did, Claud." She rolled her eyes before pushing the ever clingy Claudia off of her; the older girl had always been a hugger. 

"Maxine!" Omar exclaimed dramatically before smirking charmingly as he always did; ever the charmer this one was. 

"Where's my hug?" He complained before Max hit him in the side of his head, making him jump and trip over his feet a little. 

"Call me Maxine again and I'll do one better and tear your skull apart." she threatened him, narrowing her eyes in before pulling him into a side-hug. "Now, can we get the hell out of here?"

Both of them agreed enthusiastically, chatting and gossiping with each other and before Max knew it she was nestled in the backseat of Mateo's car, lighting up a cigarette and blowing out smoke through the open window. She smiled secretly to herself between puffs as she felt the warm summer wind fly against the base of her neck. 

Claudia sat beside her, filling her in on the major happenings of Esperanza since the older girl came to see in juvie; someone left, someone else OD'd, the new crazy shit her aunt pulled; while Omar drove the car lazily through the mostly vacant streets of Alba. 

Max took another puff of her cigarette, letting the smoke dissipate before gesturing to the laid, baren roads. 

"What's up with the city?" she raised her eyebrows as Claudia shrugged, snatching the cigarette from her cousin. 

Omar was the one who answered. "It's the last day before summer break. Everyone's at school or work, waiting for the day to finish. Some weird-ass city tradition." he rolled his eyes, pulling into a lane as Max scoffed. 

"I think it's peaceful!" Claudia remarked cheerfully, grinning obnoxiously brightly. Max rolled her eyes as Claudia passed the smoke back to her. 

"You'd never survive a day living in the South Side," she stated, taking another hit exhaling the smoke out of her nose this time. 

Claudia snorted. "You're not wrong!" she exclaimed before turning to Omar and telling him and she assumed herself as well, about their plans tonight; a party planned by Mateo to celebrate her coming home and the beginning of summer. 

The excited chatter from Claudia intermingled with Omar's sly, sarcasm along with the pleasant heat the cigarette had brewed at the bottom of her throat made her content, letting the smallest grin form on her lips as she listened to their endless and seemingly pointless banter.

Maybe there were some things she missed in juvie.

-

According to Claudia and Omar, Max's brother Mateo was still in school at the insistence of his new girlfriend at wanting him to graduate. The very few times that Mateo had come to visit him over her stint in juvie he hadn't mentioned a girlfriend. They only recently got together, according to the two of them. 

Amidst Claudia's incessant ramblings, she had mentioned a few things about the girl in question. She was one of the Capers' kids, she's smart. she's kind and good for Mateo; which was a change from Mateo's choice of company. 

He usually went for the drug-blazed teen moms with obvious mental issues who wanted to use him. Claudia tells her that she could meet her at the party Mateo was throwing tonight, on the account of her coming home and the first night of the summer. 

Max is pretty sure she mentioned the girl's name but she had never been good with names anyway so by the time Omar has dropped Claudia off at the subway station and driven them to Esperanza, any memory of her name is gone from Max's mind. 

By the time Omar pulled up to the Orlov household, even though Max could never admit it, she was nervous. Her home had never been a symbol of comfort to her and she didn't know if her wise-cracking idiot brother would be waiting for her or a scarily drunk, violent father.

"So, Mateo should be in," Omar says casually as they both tumble out of the car. 

"As usual, no one knows where your dad is. I'm sure he'll turn up in a few days, unfortunately." he quipped, smirking almost viciously and Max can't help but mirror it. 

"Look, I gotta stock up for tonight. Get enough to keep us on the hook." he wiped the side of his cheek with his thumb. "Uh..you'll be okay?" he asked.

Max scoffed. "'Course I'll be. Now, go!" she crossed her arms across her chest. "You still remember my order?"

"Two tabs of acid with a shit ton of weed? I'm not a fool!" Omar exclaimed before running off in the other direction before she could respond. She chuckled to herself silently as she walked up to the little shack, turning the doorknob to crack open the door; their door was never locked. 

The house looked the same as it did six months ago. Except for the addition of more bottles of beer and rum and more guns, it was still home sweet home.

She tried to stop the sight from shaking her, especially that new splatter of blood that made her wanna throw up all over again.

She couldn't, though. This was home. Again. 

Shuddering, Max started to make her way towards her room before Mateo emerged from the kitchen, all wide-eyed and bright. 

"Max!" he exclaimed. 

A hug and a wide grin; the twisted siblings had reunited and she felt herself almost immediately relax.

Claudia and Omar were great and funny and comforting to be around but no one could ever know her as well as Mateo did. 

"Dad dead yet?" she joked just before releasing Mateo from her embrace, just holding him by his elbows now. 

"Just on a bender, unfortunately," he said pointedly. 

"Make the best of it till he shows up again?"

Max grinned widely. The prospect of getting drunk and high ahead of time filled her mind with thrill and adrenaline. Max knew she was a junkie, she always had been, getting off on the idea of danger and illegality. Max was born a junkie and an addict and she'd die one as well.

Not that she minded. 

"Show the way."

-

As the light of day faded away, giving way to the humid, moonlit night, the party had started at the Orlov household with no sign of stopping. Music blared out from the speakers that Omar had probably stolen, everyone was either high or drunk or both in most cases. The house was packed with live, writhy bodies; the smell of pot and the sound of loud, excitable teenagers filling the air. 

Max wasn't far gone yet, not with her tolerance. Omar wasn't here yet with her normal order but that wasn't to say she wasn't pretty buzzed already. All the things in her system; weed, coke, some molly, it was all mixing like an unbrewed potion. Add a few shots of tequila and a couple of bottles of beer and you were heading towards something dangerous. Max remembered smiling as she felt every single drug she had taken attack her body.

Perfect. 

Max had managed to wander on outside; waiting for Omar to show up. Claudia was already inside last time she checked, having already obtained a target to ruin for the night; one of Mateo's blazed out friends who like much of everyone was too drunk to stand upright. 

It was the moment when the hot, sweaty air hit her arms, the sensation clearing her mind a little as she tried to focus on the small crowds of people gathering around her house, debating on whether to go or stay. 

It was then it happened. 

It was her. Caramel. 

Max didn't know anything about this girl. She barely recognised her from around the neighbourhood; there was no one that she knew or remembered who looked like..that. So, Max knew virtually nothing about this girl, whoever she was. What Max did know was that the girl who was approaching her was...unusual.

None of the girls who lived in the Southside was ever traditionally pretty. For the guys who lived in this neighbourhood, looks barely mattered, not because of their morals but rather lack of choice. The girls she knew; herself, Claudia, the ones at the party; they weren't ugly but they weren't pretty, not like how whoever this. Not like her. 

Max felt it all catch up to her; the drugs, the alcohol, the pretty girl who wouldn't look her way. Maybe it was for the best that she didn't look her way, that whoever this girl was, stayed far away from Max and everything that ensued with her. 

It'd be better for Max as well, she had tripped too many times, messed up too many times, fell in infatuation with too many girls with kind smiles and pretty eyes and it always ended the same way. With them leaving and her hating herself.

A distinctive yell of her name from the house took her out of her reverie, a call for another round of shots maybe. Max shook her head quickly, trying to get that...that girl out of her head. 

And so that's what Max did. She drank and took and screamed until all of her was filled with nothing but thrill and drugs and alcohol and nothing else. And she loved it, she loved how it took to the highest high and destroyed anything else that was in her path.

But still, somewhere, in between red-flush fury and pure ecstasy, that girl was in there.

Caramel was still in there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed the chapter! this book is literally my baby and so are these characters! 
> 
> please do let me know what you liked or didn't like about this chapter! any constructive criticism is welcome!
> 
> soon (promise)  
> -zeinel (saf)


	3. chapter two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the aftermath of the party, sleeping off a hangover and the undoing of Max.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warnings: mentions of drugs and child abuse with no graphic descriptions.

The party was a disaster.

Sure, it was fun at first to everyone, especially Max. The lights blared brightly, the drinks made her lose her inhibitions, and the weed made her feel like she was indestructible. But the immediate aftermath of the party was intense.

Everyone was hungover, still recovering from the intensity of all the drugs they had taken and all the drinks they had forced down their throats. It took a while to get everyone out of the house. They seemed to be nestled in every nook and cranny of the already cramped and small home.

Eventually, everyone was gone, including Omar and Claudia though she had left late last night, clinging onto some guy. It was just the two of them: Max and Mateo left to clean up the house. It was a hard enough job, the house littered with empty beer cans and shattered glass and smoked up joints. But doing it extraordinarily hungover and sore was a whole different story.

Mateo groaned loudly as his phone went up with a chirpy ringing tone. "Fuck," he swore bitterly before throwing it on the table where it continued to ring.

Max pointed her finger at him, threateningly. "Pick it up or shut it off. Why is it so loud?" she whined in the way that she only would when she was coming off of Omar's supply. She continued picking up an array of broken beer bottles that someone had left when Mateo started to talk into his phone in a low tone.

Quiet mumbles from Mateo caused Max to pay attention, even during her hungover and crashing state. She could barely hear anything with Mateo's stifled voice and how he was progressively moving away from his very intrusive sister. Max quickly gave up on this task and decided to move onto cleaning up her bedroom instead since someone had taken advantage of it during the party.

Her bet was on Claudia and that guy she was with. Or maybe even Mateo and his girlfriend, she thought, gritting her teeth in disgust. It better not be, he had his bed in the next room.

A few minutes later, Mateo came into the room, a new shirt hanging off his shoulder with a nervous, almost giddy look on his face. "I'm heading out. Gonna sleep this bender off at Naia's place, her place is less of a shithole." With this, Mateo almost shoots out the door as Max sighs, exasperated. "What about the mess?"

Mateo shrugs. "It'll be here when I get back. Sure you don't want to tag along meet Naia?" he asked, running his hand through his hair, with a lazy grin coming over his lips.

Max rubbed her forehead twice, how Mateo wasn't as hungover as her was a mystery. "Who is Naia? Did I miss something?" she could barely tell up from down, there was no way that Max could remember who Naia was.

He rolled his eyes. "My girlfriend. You never got to meet her last night. At least not sober." he mocked slightly to which Max threw him the middle finger. He laughed it off, like always.

"So, you coming?" he asked, swinging open the front door, halfway out. Max considered staying at home, sleeping on the couch before waking up late in the evening, and calling up Omar for a ride to his place where she could stay for the night. It would have almost been peaceful if not for the rancid, pungent smell that currently enveloped the house.

She made a face of discomfort. "Better than staying here, I guess." she yawned, scratching the nape of her neck lazily. "I need to crash somewhere soon."

Before she knew it, Mateo and Max were walking down the few short blocks that it took to get to Naia's house. Both of them were silent, taking alternative puffs of the cigarette that Max lit. Max could feel the after-effects of last night, catching up with her, exhaustion wrecking her body with how chaotic it was last night. She never liked the aftermath of a party like that; as tremendous and euphoric it would be at the time, the crash would be inevitable, and Max could feel it happening.

The cigarette smoke that she was currently cultivating at the bottom of her diaphragm kept her somewhat alert, at the very least, keeping her on her feet. Max grimaced as the intolerable summer heat lept at her back. "How much longer?" she managed to ask, passing the burnt-out cigarette to Mateo which he threw on the pavement, stomping on it with the tip of his shoe. 

He gestured to a medium-sized house across the street and smirked. "We're here." he crossed the street and walked up to the house as Max stood at the same spot, still gaping at it. It certainly was no palace as far as houses went but compared to the crafty, nearly destroyed shack that she lived in, it looked like a mirage. 

"Max!" Mateo practically barked at her from across the street, a confused look on his face. "Come on!"

She rolled her eyes before crossing the street. "Coming!" she yelled, jogging to the house's doorstep where her brother was already waiting for her, impatiently. 

The house's door was already open, and Max could spot Mateo already inside the house, talking animatedly to who she assumed was his girlfriend Naia. Max hadn't really given any thought about what kind of person Mateo's girlfriend was. All she had to go off was what Claudia had told her the day before; that she was beautiful and smart and good for Mateo; which would be a surprise, quite honestly. 

But, as the moment, Max didn't really care who Naia was. All she wanted was a soft surface to lay down on until her head hurt a little less and she was a little less nauseous. Max walked up the steps to reach the house's front door and was greeted by Mateo's mischievous grin. She shoved him in the ribs before she felt everything around her spin and focused on a spot on the floor. 

"Naia, this is Max," he said, introducing her to his girlfriend. If the face that greeted her had been anyone else, she would have smirked, waved hello before crashing on the couch. Nothing else was really on her mind at the moment. 

But Naia...it was her.

The girl from the party. The one that was nestled in the back of Max's mind since she saw her just for a moment last night. The one with the pretty face and the short braided hair and the great smile. The girl she had tried to keep her mind off of, the girl she was working so hard to forget that she had tried to do through means of alcohol and white powder.

That girl. Naia. Her brother's girlfriend. 

"You okay?" Naia asked, a somewhat concerned look framing her face. It was then that Max realised she hadn't said anything, that she was just staring at this random girl with what she just hoped came off as annoyance and not infatuation. 

Max's face turned into a scowl, an extremely annoyed look coming over her face. "Peachy," she stated, sarcastically before stalking past Naia into her house without being invited. "The couch free?"

"Take a wild guess." Naia's voice was less than warm, filled with new-found contempt.  _ She doesn't like me _ , Max thought bitterly; hating how the thought filled her with nausea and yet her heart still warmed in her chest.

_ Stupid. Stupid.  _

"Whatever." Max mustered up before letting her body slump onto the couch, shutting her eyes close tightly, giving off the illusion of being asleep. 

In the state between being conscious and falling fast asleep, Max heard a hushed conversation between Naia and her brother. 

"Why is she so mean? You didn't mention this!" She heard Naia hiss furiously to Mateo who snorted before muttering reassurances. 

"Don't worry, she just takes a while to warm up to people. Besides, she did a fuck ton of drugs last night. She's wrung out." he explained, trying to humanise my bad behaviour like he always did.

"Okay, okay." Max could hear the beginnings of a smile in her voice. "Wanna go upstairs?" Max's throat tightened for some reason when she thought about what they were going to do once they were alone. "Sure," he answered off-handedly. 

Max heard their feet walking up the stairs, a steady conversation disappearing along with them. Once she was sure that they were gone and that she was alone, she groaned into her hands, trying her best to shut her head off and go to sleep, her thoughts still full of heat and caramel skin. 

_ Stupid. _

-

She woke up, much later, to the sound of the TV turning on and of someone swallowing french fries with loud, passionate voices in the background. Max blinked her eyes open blurrily before sitting up slightly to hear quick yells of Spanish here and there before a tall girl with tan skin shook her awake. "Hey!" She snapped her fingers in front of Max's face.

Max winced. "Give a girl some warning." She quipped before reverting from her laying down position to sitting upright, rubbing a crick in her neck. "Sorry." The girl said with absolutely no remorse in her voice. 

"Who the fuck are you?" she asked, dropping any intent of gentleness in her voice. 

"Uh...Max. Mateo's sister." she stated, twisting her neck around to look for her brother. "Speaking of...where is he?" Max asked while the tan girl muttered something about freeloaders under her breath. 

The taller girl shrugged. "I don't know. Now, get off my couch," she said, dismissively, practically shoving her and forcing her to her feet, despite Max's yelps of protests.

"Calm down, Araya. She's not gonna take the couch hostage." a soft, mellow voice came from the kitchen. Naia. 

Naia walked into the living room, her hair now tied into a braided bun instead of her cornrows. It made Max wonder how many different ways she could tie up her hair like that, all artisan and elegant like. Naia walked right towards her, and for a second, Max wondered if she would swerve close to her, just close enough to-

But of course, she didn't. She grabbed a set of keys from the table that was in front of the TV and tossed them to Max who barely caught them in time, still in a half-asleep stupor. She started to make a noise of confusion when Naia cut her off. 

"Your brother had to work. He's working a double-shift at the parlour. Told me to drop you off wherever. Guess you're stuck with me," she deadpanned idly, her words flowing smoothly. Naia smirked as she saw the other girl's face void of expression. "Problem?"

Max knew how to turn her feelings off, really quickly. This wasn't the first time she had to interact with someone she felt like this about, with someone she wasn't supposed to feel like this about. She'd developed a tactic; to be cold and rude and shut them off. Don't let them affect you or evidently hurt you more than they already have. 

So, of course, Max's response was a scowl and mean-spirited look. "Just my luck that I ended up with you." she emphasised the 'you' as she rolled her eyes. Max threw the car keys back to Naia in an uncaring manner. "You're driving." She stated coldly, fixing Naia with what she hoped was an intense glare. 

Without waiting for a response, she walked out of the house, subconsciously aware of Naia's eyes on her. She didn't give her another glance. That was the kind of person that Max was: rude, brash, inconsiderate. That was the only type of person that Max would let other people know. 

Max walked up the peddle-stone driveway where a green, ratty little car was parked. She leaned on its windowpane, letting her spine arch against it. As she fumbled in her pocket for a cigarette, she realised something that she hadn't before.

Her hands were shaking. Max could have blamed it on the coming down from the drugs or that it was just a random thing that was happening which she so wished it was. But it wasn't, it just wasn't. It wasn't because of the drugs or a freak accident; it was because of  _ her. _

_ Stupid. _

-

The car ride started off uncomfortable. The car was incredibly messy and full of a bunch of useless things. Little trinkets, spare clothes, and a lot of baby stuff that still retained some kind of scent didn't make for a particularly pleasant ride. The festive and joyful Spanish music playing on the stereo didn't do much to soothe Max either.

But what irritated Max most was the smug, almost all-knowing look on Naia's face as she watched the uncomfortable girl squirm. Max was naturally confrontational, so she had no qualms in narrowing her eyes and barking: "What are you looking at?"

To her surprise, Naia didn't look away or make an angry face but, instead this time, she laughed. It caught Max off guard; Naia's laugh was kind and gentle, not like the poisonous, boisterous laughs she was used to. She quietly decided she liked that type of laughter. 

"You're very complicated," Naia stated casually, her hands on the steering wheel, pulling into a tight left. Max laughed airily, that was a word people often used to describe her. Complicated, she could work with that. She was complicated.

"Not in a bad way." she continues, idly. "It's like...you have a guard up so that no one can get in if you don't want them to. But at the same time..." she stops for a second, losing the last word to air.

This piqued Max's interest. She tilted her head a little to get a better look at Naia, watching her eyes flutter ever so slightly as she pauses, letting the words rotate in her head. 

"What?" 

Naia grinned. "I think you do want people to get in. You just want them to work hard enough so that they can get in. So that they're allowed."

Max considers the words silently. Was it true? Did she really just push people away to see if they would ever try harder? If so, that was a foolish experiment of hers. They never do.

Max catches Naia's gaze as she notices the girl staring at her. She smiles widely. "You know I'm right."

Max lets a small grin come over her lips as well. "You keep telling yourself that." 

-

Whatever well-laid plans Max had for the rest of the day had seemingly disappeared into the air. As quick, sarcastic remarks ventured into actual conversations, and suddenly Max didn't care about the musty smell of the car or the Spanish music that kept on playing. 

They decided to get gross Chinese takeout from the cheapest place in the neighbourhood. It was arguably disgusting, but honestly, it wasn't entirely true that either of them cared. What had started out as rough, undulating conversations had melded into something else, something better, soften, even? 

Max didn't want to admit it; maybe if she did, it would all go away. Disappear like how everything always did. Like how everyone did. And she didn't want that, not with Naia, not with Caramel.

"So, Caramel." Max preens as Naia groans at the nickname that she's given the other girl. "What do you do?"

Naia snorts. "What do you mean?" She says in between mouthfuls of the greasy noodles that she had stolen from Max's pile. 

"Like.." Max rolls her head around. "What's your thing? Or you just a drifter like me?" 

Naia laughs, trying to avoid the question. "I don't think you're a drifter." To this, Max throws a chopstix at her head, demanding an answer.

This leaves the two of them in howls of laugher all while throwing empty cartons and whatever chopsticks that they could lay their hands-on at each other. For something so stupid, so childish and so...juvenile; it feels real. Like there was something unsaid, a playful tension. 

Eventually, for leverage, Naia unbuckled her seatbelt and practically threw herself onto Max's seat, using her fists and elbows as ammunition now. This unexpected attack leaves Max vulnerable, dropping whatever she had on her lap down on the car floor to be forgotten. Max, filled with the spontaneity of this whole incident, yelped in euphoria along with protests. 

"Stop!" she protested playfully with no actual bite between her words, silently enjoying the sensation of Naia so close to her. Her distinct yell of protest makes Naia stop and lean against the dashboard of the car. The curve of her lips gives off a mischievous atmosphere. 

"Hi." she snickers, tucking her brown cornrows behind her ears. Max chuckles idly, letting an odd peace settle over them.

"You're not too bad, Caramel," Max admitted softly, in a way that she never had, forgetting that anything else besides her and this car even existed.

Naia moved closer, letting the palm of her hand lay on Max's arm. "You too, Max." There was a beat of silence as both of them made their eyes wander, unsure of what the next move would be. Max didn't know what to do, what was going to happen next if she even wanted it to. 

Naia moved even closer to her, their faces barely apart. They were close, too close. The euphoria of the entire day muddled her mind and Max thought maybe she should just let this happen. Let them happen.

And then something else happened.

A gentle grab of the back of her neck, something that almost everyone would consider a gesture of tenderness, of kindness, prodded at a bruise, at a memory that Max worked hard to forget. Max immediately sees red and pushes Naia off roughly, the gentleness of the night lost.

**_ Come here, you brat! I need to teach you how little girls act around their fathers! _ **

Max remembered the hitting, violence, and the slurs, and she was back to the reality of their world, back to the reality of it all. Her hands couldn't stop shaking, and her world was spinning fast, too fast. All she can think about is blood, so much blood. She hates blood.

Naia swore and yelled at her, but she could barely hear anything but the blood rushing into her ears. She wrapped her hands around her ears, and tried to block it all out, tried to make it stop, for her sake.

Naia soon sensed something was wrong. Max could see her, could see the moment she started to freak out, could see her trying to touch her-

"Don't fucking touch me." Max's words were bitter to the touch and toxic, and it scared Naia. Whatever progress they made, what budding relationship they developed, was gone, just as a memory resurfaced. 

"Just drive me home..." she trailed off, her voice wavering at the very last moment, unshed tears evident in it. 

Naia is silent as she turns on the ignition and starts driving from their spot in the empty parking lot back to her house. The entire ride is like that; with Max hiding away her face, Naia trying not to say anything. 

They reached Max's house, and Max's eyes ran over the house with careful trepidation. There were so many things unsaid, so many "sorry's" and so many questions Naia wanted to ask, needed to ask.

Max got the last word, all cold and calculating, much like their first real interaction. 

"This never happened."

And then she was gone. She opened the car door open and bursts out of it. No goodbye, no sarcastic remark, nothing.

Naia didn't know what today was supposed to be, what she wanted it to be. But what she did know is that it hurt when she watched Max walk up to Omar who was waiting at her doorstep, clearly upset, and slotted her mouth into his, trying to do away her sins by doing another. 

She pretends not to look as she sees them push into the house and see the silver glisten of tears that lined her cheeks.

She wonders how often that happened. 

And how it would feel to be the one that that happened to. 


End file.
